


Victory

by Wallwalker



Category: Star Ocean: The Second Story | Second Evolution
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Post-Canon, Rivalry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-13
Updated: 2011-04-13
Packaged: 2017-10-18 00:42:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/183106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wallwalker/pseuds/Wallwalker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dias learns that winning just isn't as important to Claude as he'd expected it to be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Victory

Dias remembered his last Tournament very clearly.

It was one of those days that he forced himself not to lose in the rush of time, a bit of glass from the broken mirror that was his memory that he kept cleaned and polished and carefully put away. And instead of the fighting itself, which was still a blur to him, what he remembered most was the aftermath - walking away from Lacour Castle with Claude, trying his best to ignore the chatter from the crowds.

Dias remembered wanting to say something to Claude but not being able to get the words out, largely thanks to the boy's damned enthuasium. From the very start, Claude had put him completely off balance. "Dias," he'd said with one of those smiles, the ones that were probably genuine but might as well have been fake the way he kept flashing them around to everyone, "I'm glad I got to see you again."

"Hmph." Dias didn't know what else he could say to that. Claude had put him off guard again, in that damned innocent way the boy had. It was driving him completely insane; he had to say something that would turn the conversation back onto familiar ground, but what?

"I mean it. And I'm glad to see that you're all right," he continued. "That was a tough fight, wasn't it?"

All at once Dias had his opportunity. "Yes, and now you're finally the champion. That _is_ what you've wanted all along, right?"

Claude stopped short, but Dias just kept walking; if the kid wanted to catch up, he'd have to do it himself. He wasn't in the best of moods anyway. His shoulder was still hurting, one of the injuries he'd picked up in that last battle with Claude. He needed something to eat and drink as soon as he could; he needed the energy, he'd been pushing himself too hard.

And it had all been for nothing, as it had turned out. Claude had made it to the final round - and that hadn't surprised Dias, not in the least. He'd been hoping for it, as a matter of fact; none of the other so-called warriors in the Tournament had been worth traveling to Lacour to fight. Everyone knew that the fighters had been getting worse and worse every year; it seemed that fewer and fewer men bothered to put any effort into the actual art of fighting. They thought that swinging swords around was all there was to it. Claude, for all of his innocence, was at least better than those idiots.

So they'd faced each other once again, the only warriors in the event that had been honored by weapons from the best swordsmith in Lacour, Master Gamgee himself. It was the climax of the Tournament, and the crowd had known it. The applause had been deafening, but Dias hadn't cared. He'd only seen his opponent, and had only known the thrill of the fight.

It hadn't been very different from their first fight, except that Dias had lost. And the worst part of all of it was that he didn't know how he'd lost. It had happened too quickly for even him to understand. Maybe it was just a lucky blow; maybe Claude had learned something on Nede after all. Either way, Claude had won.

"Hey," Claude called after him. Dias could hear him scrambling to catch up. "What are you talking about? I'm no champion. I got in a lucky shot, that's all!"

Dias fought down a surge of irritation. Why was the boy trying to hard to sugarcoat this? Did he honestly think that would help anything? "It doesn't matter. You won, and I'm just one of the losers. You defeated me. Stop trying to make it sound like something else."

"Defeated..." Claude shook his head. He was finally keeping pace with Dias again. "Okay. I guess you're right. But there ought to be more to it than that."

"What else is there?"

"Well... how about us being even?"

"Even?" Dias was the one who stopped short at that one. Claude stopped with him, watching him. "Even," he repeated. "You honestly believe that, don't you?"

"Of course," Claude said, scratching his head. "Why don't you believe it?"

"You're a fool," Dias muttered, and began to trudge forward again. He didn't want to admit that Claude had caught him off guard yet again, and with one simple sentence. He couldn't help it; Claude made him so damned uncomfortable.

"Maybe I am. I never really understood why we had to be rivals. It seems ridiculous now."

"Hmph." Privately, however, Dias had to agree; it did seem silly. But maybe that was just because the reason was gone. There had always been a girl before, a pretty young thing with feathery blue hair and an unfortunate tendency to cling to the people she cared about so hard that it was sometimes too much to take.

But despite her flaws, he'd cared about Rena, although he hadn't really understood how he really felt about her near the end. He'd become increasingly aware that this Rena wasn't the little sister that he'd known so well. If he'd just been more outgoing, if he'd just spoken his mind, maybe he would've been able to figure something out. But talking about emotions and weaknesses had always been very difficult for him.

It was too late, now. Dias had been so sure that Rena was going to be torn between the two of them forever, torn between her love for her childhood friend and her fascination with the man from a strange place. He'd never expected her to fall in love with someone else entirely - not even a warrior, he thought with some disdain, but someone who hated fighting more than anything else in the world. But that was how it had happened.

That was another shard of his memory that he'd taken care to keep bright and clear over the past months. With just a thought, he could call up an image of Rena holding Noel's hand as she told Claude and Dias that she still hoped they'd come back to Arlia someday, that she'd always welcome them as if they were her big brothers. Claude had left that same day - that hadn't been enough for him. Dias had lingered in Arlia for two days before leaving again, without saying goodbye - it had been too much. He supposed that if Noel could be happy with what Rena had offered him, he was welcome to it.

"You really think it's over?" Dias finally asked, looking back at his former opponent. "We fight, beat each other once, and then we part company for good?"

"What? No, of course not. It's just..." Claude trailed off and shook his head. "Geez... I'm not making any sense, am I?"

"At least we agree," Dias muttered, but there wasn't any real venom in it. He didn't have it in him just then; the fight had drained it all, and the strange, empty space it had once occupied was as discomfiting as Claude.

"Look, Dias I fought you to... well, to prove something to myself, I guess. And now that I've proved it, well, there's no reason to fight you." He spread his arms. "I've finished what I started. I don't care about being the champion or anything else, but I do care about that."

Dias didn't answer. He was thinking that he should've left town as soon as he'd woken up in that waiting room with bandages on his shoulder. He shouldn't have stuck around long enough to find Claude. He didn't know why he'd waited...

"Are you staying here tonight?" Claude asked, out of the blue.

Dias realized with a start that they were nearly in front of the Inn. He shook his head. "No. I can't stay here. This town isn't what it used to be."

"Oh. Well, I... I guess I am. I'm supposed to see the King tomorrow... it's traditional, they said." He started up the stairs, then turned back to look at Dias. "Watch yourself, Dias," he said, and smiled that horrible bright, genuine smile. "I want to see you again someday."

Dias wanted to turn away. He wanted to leave without a word, like he always did; he hated long goodbyes. But something in that smile made him stop and nod. "I'm headed to Eluria after this, you know."

"Eluria?" Claude echoed. "To help with the rebuilding, you mean?"

Dias nodded curtly. "There are still monsters there. I can't just sit around here and let myself lose my edge."

Claude stared at Dias for a long moment before nodding. "Yeah. Maybe I'll... I'll be heading that way too. After all this is done, I mean. There's not much left to do here..."

"Maybe we'll run into each other there," Dias said. "Enjoy your victory, Claude."

"Um, yeah," Claude said slowly. "Thanks. I'll try."

Then Claude turned and walked into the Inn, leaving Dias free to walk away in his idiom - no more long good-byes, nothing but a strange and not-entirely-welcome feeling of satisfaction deep in his gut. Maybe he'd lost the Tournament of Arms, but he couldn't help but think that he'd won in some other, more significant way. Maybe, he mused, _he'd_ knocked _Claude_ off-guard for a change...

Two weeks later, Claude disembarked on the beach near the new Eluria colony, a passenger on a ship of volunteers from Cross and Lacour. Dias was standing there with a small group of residents, waiting for him.


End file.
